to live is an awfully big adventure
by Glittery-Bubbles
Summary: Their love is slow and it's sweet and it feels a lot like destiny.


**to live is an awfully big adventure**

Anne's eyes blur with tears as she storms home. She is a fool. A complete utter fool. To imagine that someone like her, a homely orphan with hair the colour of carrots could be soul mates with a boy like Gilbert. The idea now seems so unlikely as to be laughable.

It doesn't matter that when they last danced their eyes had locked and she had felt such a connection between them she swore he must have felt it too. That her hand in his had sent tingles up her arm, that her head had felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy and her body so warm she felt as if she could rival the sun. That in her chest her fragile heart had felt full to bursting with an emotion she couldn't at the time name, but in the quiet of her room that night came singing to her. Not with the pomp and glamour she once expected but like the comforting melody of a childhood song, one that you had forgotten but which finds its way back to you.

But no she had let herself get swept away in her emotions as usual and now she had to pay the price. "A tragical romance is all well and good in stories" she sniffed to herself. "No one tells you the sordid truth of playing second fiddle to a golden haired princess." She clambered over a turnstile, hiking up her dress to avoid the mud in the process. Jumping down on the other side she felt her foot catch on a rotten plank which give way with a crack beneath her. Next thing she knew she was lying backwards in the dirt, her ankle throbbing and tears welling up in her eyes. Of all the days. She remained lying down. "I give up!" she yelled to the sky. "You win universe. I am no match for your liniment cakes and rotting turnstiles and fairy princesses. You have put me in my place and I am quite content for my future as the bride of adventure"

"Anne?"

She sprang upright eyes wide. That voice…surely not. What would he be doing here in a field near Green Gables? Shouldn't he be at the fair with his beau? But then again firmer this time. "Anne? Are you all right? Why are you lying in the dirt?" And then his face appeared over the fence, dark curls in disarray, looking charmingly confused and as always devastatingly annoyingly handsome.

She tried to spring to her feet and dust herself off forgetting for a second her injured ankle. The pain shot up her leg and she fell forwards into Gilbert's outstretched hand. All the emotions from the dance rose up at the feeling of his warm hand covering hers and she pushed them away angrily. "I don't need your help Gilbert Blythe."

"Anne your ankle is swollen and obviously painful, you shouldn't put weight on it right now. The least I can do is assist you home to rest. Besides I recall once telling Marilla that I'd keep you out of ditches." He smiled at her gently.

Casting her mind about for a way to refuse without sounding churlish and not able to come up with a solution she let him link her arm through his, leaning her weight against him and trying to hobble as fast as she could home. Oh this was agony. For Gilbert to see her covered in mud and talking to herself and now to be forced to walk with him, touching him, while having all these _feelings._ She was convinced that the universe could not have come up with a more twisted punishment then this for her wayward thoughts.

"So what were you saying back there?" asked Gilbert his eyes twinkling down at her.

"I was reaffirming my commitment to the universe to be the bride of adventure."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. "What exactly does being the bride of adventure entail?"

"Well for one, definitely no earthly romantic entanglements. My devotion shall be to the sun, to the moon and the stars. I will find joy in the colours of the sunset, the flowers that bloom in spring, in the vastness of the ocean and all that lies beyond that I do not yet know but already love." For a second caught up in her own poetic fantasy Anne's eyes glazed over with the simple joy she found in being alive. Gilbert's hand squeezing hers brought her crashing back down.

"You don't plan to marry?" There was something in his eyes she couldn't quite identify. "You don't think there's someone out there who would do all in his power to hang the sun, moon and stars in your reach?"

She cleared her throat nervously. "It appears romantic love is not for me. I did have a brief thought that maybe…." She trailed off and then smiled and continued. "But fate clearly had other ideas and I think my original plan stands."

"What changed your mind?" Gilbert's mind was racing. The thought that Anne never wanted to fall in love was for some reason as distasteful to him as the thought that she might have entertained romantic thoughts of another.

"What made you sure of your love for Miss Rose?" Anne tried to mask her nervousness at the bold question. For she couldn't tell him that the reason she changed her mind was due to his surprise appearance with the golden haired beauty.

"M-my what?" He stuttered trying to control his voice. His love? Where had Anne got that idea? "She is a charming lady but I do not think I would call my feelings towards her love."

"Why would you bring her to Avonlea, with her parents no less, if not as a declaration of your intentions? Is not the next step in courting to ask for her hand? And shouldn't the person you court…shouldn't' you be in love with her?"

Gilbert stopped walking and turned to face her. He felt his cheeks burn as he looked into her wide green eyes. The earnest way she spoke, her fingers intertwined in his, was making his heart beat faster than he liked. He remembered his conversation with Bash. These feelings they didn't necessarily mean Anne was the one. But then why did her not feel these things with Winifred? Yes, she was beautiful and she made him nervous with her poise and experience but she never made him feel like Anne did. Like when the world was changing, when he felt like he was drowning, he could look into her eyes and find peace there.

She was still looking at him and somehow he found that he had leaned in closer. Her eyes were like the ocean on a stormy day, never breaking away from his gaze. But he heard the sharp intake of her breath, felt it puff against his cheek, felt a stray strand of copper brush against his forehead. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing except that he was in a field holding hands with a girl who made him feel _all the feelings _and he was tired of trying to figure this out on his own.

Anne could not quite wrap her head around what was happening. Instead of answering her question Gilbert had turned and stared at her in that way he had that made her simultaneously want to melt into the ground and run thousands of miles away. And then (of all the liberties!) he was leaning far closer than was proper, his forehead almost touching hers and yet she still couldn't move away, in fact didn't _want_ to move away. Were those eyes full of romance for her? Could the fortune teller have been right? She couldn't quite bring herself to lean in but with a small sigh she closed her eyes.

Gilbert hadn't quite expected to get this far without Anne whacking him on the head with her cake tin and now suddenly their noses were bumping and one of his hands had found her waist and all he could think was, this was overwhelmingly _right_. Their lips brushed, once, twice and then not wanting to push too far, he pulled away and straightened up. She was looking at him again, cheeks as red as her hair, mouth slightly open and he had to avoid looking at her too long because it made him want to kiss her again.

"Anyway…" his voice was hoarse but she surprised him by laying a finger across his mouth.

"Anyway." She smiled up at him. The road was long ahead but for now her destiny was close and her heart was full.

* * *

**AN:** Because I am so obsessed with these two and I had to write something to feel better about the slowness of this slow burn. Hope you enjoyed!


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